


Always

by NamelesslyNightlock, Rabentochter



Series: This Was A Bad Idea (but we know what we're doing) [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Amputee Tony Stark, Angst, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Depressed Tony Stark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Endgame Fix-It, Feels, Fluff, Frostiron Bingo Round 1, Hopeful Ending, Hurt Tony Stark, Insecure Tony Stark, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Lives, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Physical Disability, Pining, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Lives, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 20:09:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20936027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabentochter/pseuds/Rabentochter
Summary: Loki had heard about what happened, because the wholeuniversewas talking about the human who had wielded six Infinity Stones and lived– but he hadn’t expected to find Anthony like this.





	Always

**Author's Note:**

> <s>So maybe... there's more than just the one marvel movie we're still feeling salty about xD</s>  
  
As always for this series, art by **Rabentochter**, fic by **NamelesslyNightlock**.  
  
And this is a fill for both of our FI Bingo cards:  
**Rabentochter:**  
**B1**— _Hurt/comfort (trope)._  
**NamelesslyNightlock:**  
**G5**— _Trope: Disability._

When they asked Loki to go to– to _Stark’s_ mansion, he felt more than a little trepidation.

He’d heard what had happened, of course. The whole _universe_ was talking about the– well, not mortal, but the _human_ who had wielded all six Infinity Stones at once, who had destroyed the Chitauri fleet, killed the Mad Titan, and _lived_. 

People across the Nine were all telling his story, his song being sung across the stars.

And yet, Tony Stark, the most loved man in all the universe… would not leave his house.

Thor promised that they had tried everything. He _swore_ that the Avengers had all tried, that Pepper and Rhodes had talked for hours, that even FRIDAY was on the verge of breaking because she didn’t know how to help her Boss. They’d all tried, but…

Something had happened, when Anthony– when _Stark_ had snapped his fingers. Thor wouldn’t say what it was, but, it was enough that it had broken the strongest person Loki knew.

And it hurt, oh it _hurt_ to step through the doors of the house that had once felt just as much of a home to him as his own quarters upon Asgard. Loki could have said that Anthony would not want to see him, could have pointed out that they had broken apart under terrible circumstances, and that the jagged pieces of their wounded hearts just didn’t fit together the way that they used to.

If he’d wanted, Loki could have said no.

But.

_He might listen to you_, Thor had said. _However small, there’s a chance that he will. And would you be able to forgive yourself if you did not even try?_

And… even though Loki didn’t know all of the details, he _did_ know that Anthony was in pain.

And to make Anthony smile? Well, Loki had always known that he was willing to do anything.

So even though it felt like his heart was cracking open, Loki took those steps through that door, drew in a deep breath to steel his expression and headed for the stairs.

“Stark?” he called– but of course, he knew before he started that he wouldn’t get a reply. He knew where Anthony would be.

His feet traced the familiar route across the living room, but then when he reached the stairs and took his first step down—

“That is the wrong way,” FRIDAY said, her voice cutting through the air from nowhere. “Boss is not the workshop.”

And Loki stopped dead in his tracks.

“FRIDAY?” he asked– and he felt a little clumsy, speaking her name when another acronym belonging to another AI would have fallen from his tongue far more naturally, even after all these years. “I was under the impression that you informed Thor he had not properly slept since the battle.”

The battle, which had been over three weeks ago.

If Anthony, if _Stark_ was not sleeping, then that usually meant that he was spending time in the workshop. Especially in the months after he had been kidnapped– after Loki had searched all of Midgard and _begged_ Odin and Heimdall to help him find a mere mortal to no avail—

After he had become Iron Man, Anthony had suffered from nightmares that had kept him awake, and Loki had spent more than a few nights sleeping on the couch in Anthony’s workshop, just so that he wouldn’t be alone as he tried to distract his mind.

But if Anthony wasn’t sleeping now, and he wasn’t in the workshop—

“Then where is he?” Loki asked.

“He is in his bedroom,” FRIDAY said gently. “Do you need directions?”

“No,” Loki said. “No, I know where it is.”

When Loki pushed open the door, he was met with a sight that caught his breath in his throat.

The room looked like it had been destroyed, clothing and pieces of electronics strewn everywhere. The mattress from the bed was on the floor, and the sheets were torn to tatters—

And in the middle of the room, curled in a ball among the carnage and the destruction, was _Anthony_.

“Loki?” he asked, his voice hoarse as he glanced up from where his head rested on his knees, most of his body covered by a sheet– and Loki couldn’t help but wonder if the hoarseness was from lack of use, or from screaming.

“_Anthony_,” Loki gasped, stepping forward and crouching down a few feet away, not able to hold himself back, but not sure if his comfort was _wanted_. “What…” he trailed off, not even sure what he wanted to ask.

Did he ask what had happened, when he already knew?

Did he ask how he could help, when he didn’t know if Anthony wanted him to?

When he didn’t know if he _could?_

As if he sensed Loki’s inner turmoil, Anthony’s eyes darkened into something painful.

“Did _they_ send you?” he asked. And… well, Loki could have lied, and said that they didn’t– but Anthony could always tell if he was lying. And he could have told the truth, and said that they had– but then Anthony would believe he did not wish to be there at all.

So—

“I came because I was worried,” Loki whispered– and that, at least was the truth.

Anthony glanced away. “You didn’t need to,” he said. “There’s nothing for you, here.”

Loki felt that as a sharp blade to the pit of his heart, but he pushed the pain away. Anthony needed him. His own anguish did not matter. 

He knew that questions weren’t going to help– they would just make Anthony clam up, make him stubborn and only hurt him more in the long run.

But… it might have been years, and the Norns might have sent them on very different paths, but Loki still _knew_ Anthony. And he knew what he needed to say.

“Anthony,” he whispered. “_Talk_ to me.”

And, at that, Anthony let out a long sigh. But rather than saying anything, he just… let the sheet fall from around his shoulders.

For a moment, Loki didn’t understand. Anthony looked fine, a little lopsided maybe, like he wasn’t sitting straight. But other… than…

_Oh_.

Loki’s eyes widened, his breath leaving him in a sharp gush of air. “Anthony,” he whispered, “I’m—”

“Please don’t,” Anthony muttered. “I don’t need your sympathy. I’ve heard it enough.”

And Loki could believe it, because—

Anthony’s right arm was _gone_.

It only took a second for Loki to realise what had happened—

Because, no mortal should have been able to wield the Infinity Stones and survive– and even with the juice of a golden apple consumed long ago running through his veins, Anthony’s body had not entirely been able to take the strain. His arm… it would have burnt up. From the cleanly healed wound on his shoulder it seemed at least that Anthony had received the best possible care, but it was obvious that he was not _coping_.

“I thought I would be okay,” Anthony muttered, the sound of his voice helping Loki to pull himself together even if his words sent shards of ice through Loki’s heart. “I already knew that I wouldn’t be able to work after this, I’d accepted that. I thought it was an all right price to pay, you know. An arm for the universe. But then I came in here and I tried to put on a shirt, and I– _fuck_, I can’t do _anything—”_ He cut himself off, his single, left hand clutching at his own hair with enough force Loki worried that Anthony might be about to pull it out.

And for a moment, Loki wondered at what one of the Avengers would have done in this situation, how they would have helped. He wondered if he should say something soft and nice or—

But, no. The _Avengers_ had already tried, they hadn’t been able to help. Anthony had already said he didn’t need sympathy.

He needed _Loki. _

So Loki cleared his throat, and set his expression into something fierce. “So because you couldn’t change your shirt by yourself on your first attempt, you’re going to give up?” he asked. “Really? The great Tony Stark, reduced to this?”

“It wasn’t just my first attempt,” Anthony muttered. “I—”

“But it’s been less than a month,” Loki interrupted. “You’re not even _trying—”_

“I did try,” Anthony hissed. “I _tried_, I fucking tried so hard to help the world that I lost my fucking arm—”

“That doesn’t seem to stop Barnes.” Loki arched a brow. “Or, is he just stronger than you?”

“_No—”_

“Then what?” Loki asked. “Anthony, what’s stopping you?”

Anthony stared, his eyes burning with something fierce and fiery hot. He looked like he was ready to raise his hand and fire a repulsor in Loki’s face—

But Loki just watched. And waited.

And then after a few long moments Anthony sighed, the fight going out of him as he slumped forward—

And when he did, Loki was there to catch him, his arms wrapping around his back and holding him close.

Anthony wasn’t crying, but he _was_ shaking, his breaths coming in short pants that didn’t have enough space in between. His fingers clung to Loki’s shirt, and Loki just held him close, ignoring the way that it ached deep inside.

“I always used my hands,” Anthony whispered, after a few minutes of calming down. “That’s who I am. _They’re_ who I am. I can’t be Iron Man without them, I can’t work the same as I used to. I can’t build. I could design something, and FRIDAY could fabricate it for me, but… it wouldn’t be the same. I can’t be me without _both_ of my hands. So… what’s the point?”

Loki leaned back a little so that he could meet Anthony’s tortured gaze. “You’re Tony Stark,” he said softly. “And you’ve got a problem. So get back in your workshop and _fix_ it.”

For a moment, Anthony just stared– but then his expression cleared. “Oh,” he said. “Yeah. Yeah I’ll… fix it.”

Loki would have been surprised by the suddenness, had it been anyone else. But this was _Anthony_. And it was almost nice to see that sometimes, things could still be that simple.

Maybe, Anthony had just needed the right kind of push. Maybe Loki had just come at the right moment.

Or maybe…

No. He couldn’t afford to think that way.

So when Anthony pulled from Loki’s arms, clambered to his feet and moved across the room, Loki just stayed where he was. A light breath of relief escaped him as he tilted up his chin and turned his head to the sky, half looking forward to seeing whatever design Anthony would come up with for a new arm, and half wondering if he would even have the chance– if he would be permitted to remain that long. But either way, he knew that it wouldn’t matter. So long as Anthony was all right, then… Loki would be able to manage, as well.

But then, just as Loki was about to allow his seiðr to pull him away from Malibu and back to New Asgard, Anthony cleared his throat– and Loki looked up to see that he had paused in the doorway before walking out entirely.

“Loki?” Anthony said, the corners of his mouth turning up just slightly, the expression small but real. “Thank you.”

And maybe it was a mistake, maybe he was only setting himself up for more hurt. But for the first time since he had shattered his relationship with Anthony in the same moment as he had broken a window, Loki’s heart beat with warmth.

“You’re welcome, Anthony,” he replied, feeling a strange, unfamiliar urge to smile. “Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find the art for this fic on tumblr [here.](https://rabentochter.tumblr.com/post/188190400644/always-oneshot-post-endgame-a-collab-with)


End file.
